A Jumble of Memories
by Gary Merchant
Summary: Regenerate? Unregenerate? What does the future hold?


A JUMBLE OF MEMORIES  
  
It's no good. I can't put it off any longer, though I always knew it would happen one day. Well, well, well. My first regeneration - how will it affect me? And how will Ben and Polly cope? I barely know them, yet I feel I can trust them.  
  
Thank heaven the TARDIS is helping. I'm not sure I could have survived the change . . .  
  
No, this isn't right! I should at least be able to decide what I look like, and now the High Council has made the decision for me, the rotten lot. It's all dark - no wait, there's a light ahead. Where am I? The console room - yes, that makes sense. At least they've given me my TARDIS, even if I can't use it.  
  
My last journey through space and time. For how long, I wonder . . .  
  
Oh, the pain. The Metebelis energy is so strong, so powerful. At least the TARDIS brought me home. I mean Earth, of course. I can't see Gallifrey as my home for a while yet, assuming I survive. Poor Sarah, dear old Alistair. At least Jo was spared this.  
  
What the . . . I can feel the regeneration process starting, but how? Is that Cho-Je I can hear? No, it's my teacher. Oh, the wily old devil. What's that, Brigadier? Here we go again? Yes, I suppose you're right . . .  
  
Well, I would have preferred not to know when my time would come, but given the circumstances . . . At least the Master was defeated, even if he did get away - again. I do seem to make a habit of that.  
  
How strange to see your future before you, just waiting for the right moment. And how will these three youngsters cope with a new me? At least Adric knows me. I can rely on him . . .  
  
I must regenerate - can't leave Peri on her own. Even in the TARDIS she couldn't survive indefinitely. Regeneration, yes. But this feels different. I'm not even sure if I want to . . .  
  
No, Master. You will not see me dead. You invade my mind and presume to tell me what to do? To adjust my thinking, to influence my thoughts? No, I choose my own destiny. I choose to live . . .  
  
Oh, my head. Can't seem to think straight. What happened? The TARDIS under attack, force to land on the nearest inhabitable planet. Yes, now I remember.  
  
Mel! Where is she? I can sense her - unconscious. Blast! If only I could move! Come on, old girl. I need some help. What . . . what are you doing? Regeneration? No! I didn't mean that! I've hardly had time to get used to this body.  
  
Oh well, if I must.  
  
Now, how did the Rani get inside my TARDIS . . .  
  
No, stop! You don't understand, I'm not like you. I just need time to recover. Leave my body alone!  
  
The Master! He's here somewhere. Got to find him, stop him. He mustn't . . .  
  
How can I make them understand? I must regenerate. The anaesthetic . . . slowing down the process. I can't - Madame Butterfly, Puccini. Remember - I can't . . .  
  
Something's wrong, you know.  
  
He has doubts, they must be fought.  
  
Go forward in your beliefs, my boy.  
  
It's easy - when you've got nine hundred years of experience.  
  
But does he have the right?  
  
It's an impossible situation, even for a Time Lord.  
  
Whether he likes it or not.  
  
"Aargh!" He awoke with a start. Immediately his hands went to his face, checking the features, reminding himself of who he was.  
  
A knock sounded at the door. "Hello?" called a voice.  
  
"It's all right, come in."  
  
The door opened and a young woman entered, noting his dishevelled appearance. "Again?"  
  
He nodded. "Yes, again." He was breathing hard, trying to regain his composure. "Sorry."  
  
She smiled. "I was awake anyway. Breakfast?"  
  
"Please."  
  
She made for the kitchen, then turned back. "Have you thought anymore about what we discussed?"  
  
"I've thought of nothing else," he replied.  
  
"And?"  
  
He sighed. "I'd better get it over with."  
  
As he washed and dressed, he realised that he had already made the decision some time ago, but had been reluctant to admit it. A half-smile on his face, he picked up the telephone and dialled. A moment later he was deep in conversation. "Hello, Phillip? Paul. Yeah, I'm fine. Look, I thought I'd better let you know - the answer's yes, I'll do it.  
  
"What swayed me? Well, I s'pose you could say I slept on it." 


End file.
